


At Your Service, My Lady

by Sprite2b



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Exhibitionism, F/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sprite2b/pseuds/Sprite2b
Summary: Rejected by her elven love Solas, Lavellan turns to Blackwall for some very physical solace and to make Solas as unhappy as she is.Even if Blackwall doesn't get what he wants, he will give the Inquisitor what she needs.------This is a short, smutty, romance story in three parts. Because I thought it would be fun to give writing smut a try.To my Mom: This story is NOT like my other Dragon Age fanfic romance. Do NOT read this!
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Lavellan, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. Demands of the Spurned

Blackwall looked up from the wooden toy he was carving to see the Inquisitor standing in the stable doorway, backlit by afternoon sunlight so that he could only see her silhouette. "Good day, my lady."

She took a few steps into the stable. The tattoos on her forehead and cheeks were gone. Weren't they permanent? The change was so startling he almost missed that her eyes were puffy and red - she'd been crying. "Blackwall, I need..." She bit her lower lip, and hesitated.

" _Anything_ , Inquisitor" said Blackwall. He meant it. She had given him so much. A just cause to fight for. A chance at redemption for the crimes he'd committed. He couldn't stand to see her unhappy. Blackwall loved her as a leader, and he secretly loved her as a woman.

"Upstairs." She strode purposely up the stairs to the loft.

He followed, appreciating the round curve of her backside, and wondered what she wanted to talk about in private. Once there she didn't speak, but stood next to his bed and looked at him. "How can I be of service, my lady?"

"Blackwall, I... I want you to fuck me."

He must have heard that wrong. " _What_?"

"I want you to take me to bed." She kicked off her boots, pulled off her breeches, and lifted her tunic off over her head. Down to her smalls.

Blackwall swallowed. She wanted to bed _him_? "What about Solas?"

"Solas doesn't want me anymore." Her knickers and breast band hit the floor with her other clothes. Her elf's body was small and slim, and yet her breasts were round, hips shapely. "Please, Blackwall. Take off your clothes and... and make me forget."

He started to fumble with the catches on his gambeson, his hands shaking like a school boy's. No man in his right mind would turn down a woman like her. Shoulder-length auburn hair pulled back in a braid, full lips... She was as wise and courageous as she was lithe and strong. She might be just using him to get back at Solas, some kind of revenge... but he didn't care. If she needed him, he was hers.

She came toward him and took over his undressing, her nimble fingers easily handled the fasteners to render his upper body bare. She ran her hands through his thick chest hair, then down his stomach to unfasten his trousers and pull them down past his hips. His cock sprang free, hard and alert.

She gasped, eyes wide staring at it, and exhaled shakily. Then she wrapped both hands around it, sank to her knees and took the tip into her mouth.

Blackwall moaned, and gently brushed wisps of her red hair from her face. He couldn't believe he was watching her, the Inquisitor, suck him. Her mouth was soft and hot on the head, her hands slid along the length, slick with her saliva. "I... ah... won't last long like this."

She got to her feet and pushed him toward the bed.

Blackwall moved to the bed awkwardly with his trousers around his ankles and his cock at attention. He sat and she quickly loosened his boot laces. He kicked them off along with his trousers.

She pushed him down on the bed and straddled him. With no more preamble, she guided his cock to her slit and embedded the tip in her entrance.

Blackwall looked up into her face, marveling at her beautiful features, even more gorgeous without the tattoos. He cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples. He had been with elven women before, and he prided himself on being a considerate lover. He could feel that she was not ready. "Wait. Let me taste you. Let me make you cum first."

She ignored him and spit in her hand, spread the saliva along his shaft, then pushed herself down on his cock another inch. She grimaced and pulled back slightly, then drove him deeper. She balanced on her hands, pressed against the bed on either side of his chest. Her knees did not quite meet the bed on either side of his hips, her mouth was not close enough to kiss.

And he wanted to kiss her, to get his mouth on her breasts, between her legs. She was so tight. It was all he could do to hold still while she impaled herself inch by inch, wincing. "Please let me... I don't want to hurt you. You'll be sore after."

"Yes, exactly. That's what I want," she hissed, and bore down until finally she had taken all of him. Sweat beaded on her forehead. That look in her beautiful eyes - pain he'd seen before in battle. But also lust, an expression he'd only imagined focused on him. "I'm at your service, my lady." He bent his knees and pressed his heals into the bed for leverage, withdrew halfway, and thrust up into her.

She whimpered - pain and pleasure - and called out, "Yes. Yes Blackwall. Fill my elf pussy with your shem cock!"

In the back of his mind, Blackwall knew everyone in the lower courtyard probably heard that. But he no longer cared. He was giving her what she wanted, and _she wanted his cock_. He supported her above him, hands on her breasts while he tweaked her nipples. With each thrust her juices coated him as her pleasure overtook her pain. 

She called out, in rhythm with his thrusts, "Yes. Creators. Yes. Fuck. Me. Shem. Cock. So. Big. Harder. Harder. Yes!"

Blackwall was getting close. It was a wondrous sight, watching his thick cock slide in and out of her cunt. The flush in her face, eyes closed, lips parted, breathing hard. He grasped her hip with one hand, pressing a thumb against her clit, grazing the hard bundle of nerves. She called out something in elven that sounded like encouragement and he continued stroking circles around her clit while she impaled herself on his cock. She gasped inarticulate sounds, her fingernails dug into his shoulders. 

Her body went stiff, then she came apart with a wail he was sure could be heard at the war table, her inner walls contracting around him in spasms.

His release came immediately after. He thrust and filled her with his seed until he was utterly spent, in every sense of the word.

She rolled off him, panting, then got unsteadily to her feet and picked up her small clothes. His spend slid down her inner thighs.

He got up to fetch her a fresh cloth. She gingerly cleaned herself and dressed, quickly and without speaking. He took her hand and pulled her close for kiss, but she turned her head away.

"Thank you, Blackwall. That was... just what I needed."

Blackwall maintained as much composure as he could under the circumstances and let her go. "At your service, my lady."


	2. A man can only be so chivalrous

Blackwall trudged across the Hinterlands with the Inquisitor, Iron Bull, and Solas.

A rift had been spotted, and the Inquisitor made the short journey out from Skyhold to close it. Blackwall hadn't spoken to her since she took him to bed. Several times, he had stopped himself from seeking her out, or going to her quarters. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to offer kindness and understanding.

Rumor had spread fast throughout Skyhold. Everyone seemed to know what they'd done, but few seemed to know _she_ had demanded it. Blackwall stubbornly refused to talk to anyone about it.

It had been a long day of killing bears, fighting demons, and ignoring Solas' scowls. Finally as the sun set they reached an established Inquisition camp, ate a meal, and sat around the campfire. The Inquisitor asked Solas questions about the fade, but his answers were short and evasive until he cut her off and said he had nothing else to tell her. Solas rebuffed the Inquisitor's repeated pleas to speak with her in private.

Abruptly, the Inquisitor walked around the fire, sat on Blackwall's lap and pressed her lips to his.

Momentarily surprised, Blackwell kissed her back, slipping his tongue past her parted lips. Her fingers tangled in his beard, pulling him close, her tongue dove into his. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He could happily kiss her like this all night.

She turned her head away, and he continued kissing her throat.

"Come to my tent with me, Blackwall," she said breathlessly. "I want you to fuck me."

She was talking to him but looking at Solas. Using Blackwall to get a reaction from the man she loved. The man she wanted to hurt for rejecting her. It hurt to know that was why she wanted him, and yet... she did want him.

Blackwall chose his words carefully. "If that's what you want, _Herald of Andraste_ , go to your tent. Take your kit off and lay on your bedroll. Naked, with you legs open."

A grin spread across her face. She kissed him again, glanced at Solas, then sauntered to her tent, hips swaying.

Blackwall took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He would do the honorable thing. "Solas. We all know _you_ are the one she truly wants. Go to her."

The bald elf shook his head, his expression bleak in the fire's flickering light. "I can't," he said, anguish in his voice. Then he fled into the woods.

The Iron Bull chuckled. "Wha-cha gonna do?"

Blackwall got to his feet. A lamp suddenly illuminated the Inquisitor's tent from inside, casting the shadow of her naked body against the tent's wall in erotic detail. Blackwall's cock strained against his trousers. "A man can only be so chivalrous."

Inside her tent, the Inquisitor reclined seductively on her bedroll, one hand caressing a pert breast, the other between her wantonly spread legs. She started to get up, but he commanded, "Stay right where you are. Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fill my pussy with your big shem cock," she said loud enough for her voice to carry to the whole camp. 

Blackwall shed his armor. The lamp cast his shadow and hers on the tent's wall. 

"I was sore for three days after the last time. I pleasured myself while thinking about what we did." 

He winced at the reminder that he'd hurt her, even if that was what she wanted, and stripped off the rest of his clothing. His cock bounced as he yanked off his trousers, his length amplified in shadow across the tent wall.

She turned over on her hands and knees, back arched, and looked over her shoulder at him. Far louder than necessary for just him to hear she said. "Do it to me again, Blackwall. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

"Oh, I plan to," he said, voice low and the slightest bit threatening. He put their shadows out of his mind and knelt behind her firm, round ass, and grabbed one hip. Holding his cock with the other hand, he rubbed the head along her slit, up and down, sliding against her clit. 

She lifted her ass higher, head turned toward the tent wall and begged. "Please."

He ignored her demand and leaned over her, grasped a small, perfect breast and pinched her nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. He did the same to the other.

She moaned loudly. "Don't tease. Give it to me."

"I always give a lady what she wants," declared Blackwall. "But this time I'm gonna get what I want first."

He flipped her over on her back, and pinned her with his face against her sex, positioning her legs over his shoulders. She protested and struggled with far less determination than he knew she was capable of. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her crotch firmly against his mouth while he explored with his tongue and lips. 

She moaned, and stopped struggling. He licked the tangy nectar around her cunt, sucked the soft folds, then circled her clit with his tongue. She gasped and writhed, ran her fingers through his hair. He adjusted his hold, and pressed one finger to her opening, sliding it in and out easily. She was so very wet. He continued teasing her clit with his tongue and added a second finger. Tight, at first, but then a new gush of slick. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. He nibbled and sucked around her hard nub, and she rocked against his hand, fucking his fingers. Blackwell sucked her clit into his mouth and she came apart, calling to her creators, her inner walls shuddering around his fingers.

Blackwall shifted into a kneeling position, and grasped his neglected cock, spreading the slick on his fingers along it's length. "What do you want of me, my lady?"

Without hesitation, she turned over on hands and knees, presenting her backside once again. "I want you."

"As you wish, my lady." He slid the head of his cock along her folds, then sank the tip into her heat. Tight, but slick and ready for him. Slowly, gently, he worked deeper. All the while she grunted and pushed back against him, taking him eagerly until he was buried balls-deep.

He stayed that way a long moment, indulging himself in the feel of her sheath. He braced himself with one hand on the bedroll to avoid putting his weight on her, and ran his other hand up her torso, cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples, kissed her back and neck. 

"Move," she growled. "Please."

Slowly, he withdrew all but the head of his cock, then just as slowly he eased it deep into her heat. He set a slow, teasing pace. She was so wet, his cock squelched with each slow thrust. He reveled in the unbelievable sight of his cock sinking in and out of her cunt.

"Faster. Harder. Please Blackwall." Her voice was low and husky. For his ears, not for an elven man who might be listening and watching beyond the tent walls.

Blackwell obliged. He picked up the pace, thrusting hard and fast. The slap of his pelvis against her ass as she rocked back to meet him made an audible smack each time. He reached around to press his fingers against her clit, adding pressure to her bundle of nerves. She called out in elven and her inner walls spasmed and clenched around his cock.

He grasped her hips and thrust again, exploding deep inside her. He shuddered and thrust a few more times, held her against his chest, kissed her back and neck, until she pulled away.

Without a word she turned down the lamp so he could barely see her, handed him a cloth, and cleaned herself.

He wanted to curl up with her, kiss her and stroke her hair. Fall asleep with her in his arms. Confess how desperately he loved her. "Would you like me to stay?"

"No." Her tone was firm and flat. She didn't look at him.

Blackwall put on his clothes and gathered his armor. He paused at the tent flap. "At your service, my lady."


	3. As you wish, my love

The following morning when Blackwall woke, the Inquisitor was not in camp. Neither was Solas. He heard angry shouting in the distance, Solas and the Inquisitor's voices, but couldn't make out what was being said. It was mostly in elvish.

The Iron Bull was already up, sitting at the campfire. He handed Blackwall a flask. 

Blackwall drank, the liquor burned its way down his throat. He handed it back.

"She was up before dawn and went looking for him," said Bull.

"Sounds like she found him." Blackwall sat heavily, and held his head in his hands. She was unhappy, and it was his fault. He should have said no the first time and the second time. He should have sent her back to the man she loved, instead of living out his own doomed fantasy that she wanted him. And yet, he'd do it again in a heartbeat if she asked.

"Smokin' hot show you put on last night. Popped my own cork faster than a Tamassran," said Bull. He hesitated, and offered the flask again. "Are you okay? You want to talk about it?"

He waved off the flask. What was there to say? "No. And... no."

"Huh, well... Sometimes sex is just sex. Sometimes it starts out that way and... becomes much more. Like with me and Dorian." Bull was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful smile on his face. "But sometimes sex can be, well, fucked up, you know? For the wrong reasons."

Blackwall shrugged. "If it's what she wants, I don't care."

"Yeah." Bull shook his head. "That's the problem. You _do_ care."

The journey back to Skyhold was miserable. Blackwall both hoped and dreaded the Inquisitor asking him to come to her tent. But she didn't ask. She disappeared into her tent alone, and emerged with puffy, red eyes. Solas had stopped speaking to the Inquisitor and didn't acknowledge Blackwall at all. When the Inquisitor couldn't avoid Blackwall, she'd seemed about to say something, but then turn away. The Iron Bull was the only person on good terms with everyone, and he was soon tired of being the conversation middle man.

* * *

It was a relief to come home to Skyhold. Blackwall paid a member of the kitchen staff to heat water for a hot bath, ate a hearty meal at the Herald's Rest tavern, and after only one tankard of beer returned to his familiar loft in the stable alone, to wallow in self recrimination.

A note awaited him, from the Inquisitor, that said only _please come to my room tonight_.

He should not go. He knew he shouldn't. And yet... if she wanted him it was simply beyond his power to say no.

Blackwall walked up the long flights of stairs slowly, deliberately. He thought of things he should say, and of things he wanted to say but knew he couldn't. Heads turned and whispers followed him as he made his way through the great hall to the doorway he knew led to her quarters, though he had never been there. He followed the stairs up, and finally he saw her, standing in the middle of the room, her hair loose around her shoulders, wearing a simple robe held together with a tie around her waist.

"I got your note," said Blackwall, uncertainly.

"Blackwall, I..." She took a step toward him, bit her lip and looked away.

She was uncomfortable. As uncertain as he was. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can ask _anything_ of me, my lady."

A tear ran down her cheek. "That's just it. I've taken advantage of you. Used you. It was wrong of me, and I... I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Blackwall went to her, and gently brushed the tear away. Firmly he said, "I'm _not_ sorry."

She leaned against him, burying her face in his chest, and burst into tears.

He held her in his arms. He rocked her, stroked her hair tenderly, and murmured reassurances into her ear. How could this amazing woman be strong enough to hold the Inquisition together, and yet so vulnerable. He wanted to be there for her to lean on, always, to lend her his strength. To care for her needs, whatever they many be.

The tears abated, and he gently wiped her face with his handkerchief, then gave it to her to blow her nose. "Blackwell, it seems you are always prepared, always there for me, when I need you."

His breath caught. Did he dare tell her that he loved her?

She said, "Will you stay with me tonight, and just... hold me?"

"Yes. Of course. I would like that, my lady." He swept her up in his arms, and carried her to the enormous bed where he laid her, chastely. Then he took off his boots and stretched out next to her. She snuggled against him, head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

She was quiet for a long time, and Blackwall thought she might have fallen asleep. Then hesitantly, the Inquisitor began to talk. She spoke to him of her loneliness, of the weight and burden of her responsibility. She always had to be what others needed her to be. The advisers relied upon her to make the hard decisions for the greater good. She was the Herald of Andraste. The Inquisitor. When her clan needed her in Wycome, she couldn't be there for them because Inquisition missions always took precedence. Her advisers assured her Lavellan clan would be safe, protected by the Inquisition. But her advisers failed and her keeper, her family and friends, everyone she knew and loved, had been slaughtered. The report was the only acknowledgment of her heartbreaking news. None of her advisers, and not even Solas, offered even one word of consolation. She grieved for her people alone. Then Solas had convinced her to let him take away her Vallaslin - the symbol of her life and culture - right before he rejected her. S  
he had nothing left, when or if the war ended, she had nothing to go home to.

"I had no idea. I'm so sorry," said Blackwall, overcome with sadness, at both the emptiness of mere words and the realization that he was among those who'd added to her burdens as Tom Rainier. "I know that nothing can replace what you've lost. But I'm here for you. A very wise woman once told me that you can't change the past, but you can decide in the present who you'll be in the future. The future is what you make of it. And if I know you, it will be amazing."

"Throw my own words back in my face, will you?" She chuckled and propped herself up on one elbow and gazed into his eyes. "I want you to know that I care about you, Blackwall, but I don't... I'm not ready to love anyone just now. I don't want to lead you on, and I know it's horribly selfish of me, but you give me what I need and I want you to stay with me, Blackwall. At least until we defeat Corypheus, and maybe for what comes after."

Blackwall looked into her beautiful eyes. A part of him wanted to declare his love. Another part knew that doing so would put yet another burden on her. "I will."

She leaned over him and pressed her lips against his. He responded with a gentle, slow kiss. She tangled her fingers in his beard, and slipped her tongue between his lips. He brushed her hair away from her face and cupped her cheek, tasting and exploring her mouth.

She pulled back slightly and smiled down at him. "Ma serannas. Thank you." Her hand trailed down his chest and she unfastened his trousers, reached into his smalls to fondle him.

Blackwall swallowed. "I thought you wanted me to just hold you."

She scooted down on the bed, and pulled on his trousers. He lifted his ass so she could pull his trousers past his hips and expose his hard, eager cock. "I do," she said. "Later. Right now I want to do something for you." 

"That's not ne-" He gasped as she licked up his shaft from balls to tip, then ran her tongue over the head tasting the drop there before taking it into her mouth.

He shivered and did his best to hold still while her head bobbed up and down, sucking his tip, stroking his length, her mouth soft and warm. He held her hair out of the way, and watched her take him a little deeper, barely managed to control the urge to thrust into her mouth. Frustratingly, her robe covered her entirely. He wanted to see her, touch her, taste her. 

She choked, and pulled back slightly. He took the opportunity to pull her into his arms, and kiss her.

Eyebrows knit together, her beautiful eyes held sadness, the weight of the world, and something else. Something just for him. "Blackwall, I want you to... _make love_ to me."

Blackwall gently pushed her back onto the bed and untied the belt holding her robe closed. She was naked underneath. "Gladly, my lady." He kissed her lips, along her jaw, and licked the tips of her pointed ears eliciting a trembling gasp. He ran his hand up and down her torso, brushing lightly against her nipples, and kissed his way down her throat. He lavished attention on her breasts, sucking on one nipple while rolling the other between thumb and forefinger, then switching to suck the other teasing lightly with his teeth.

He took his time, savoring the moment, savoring her. He would make love to her as she'd asked, as he wanted. Even if he couldn't _tell_ her, he could _show_ her how he loved her.

Blackwall kissed down her ribs, to her navel, and along her hip and pelvis. Then he kissed and sucked his way down one inner thigh, then up the other thigh to her apex. She panted and writhed. He ran his tongue along her slit and around her bundle of nerves.

"Yes, yes, please more," she moaned.

He slid a finger into her, and focused his attention on her clit. He licked, nibbled, and sucked, paying close attention to her reactions. Her body was his temple. She was the goddess of his idolatry, and he her adoring supplicant. Her breath hitched, moisture pooled around his finger, and she shuddered.

"Blackwall," she panted. "I want you inside me."

He quickly shed his clothes, wiping his damp beard on his shirt.

She threw off the robe and climbed on top of him, his hard length pressed against her stomach, and kissed him eagerly. "I like tasting myself on your tongue," she said as she guided his cock to her entrance. Unlike the first time, she eased onto him with care. She was tight, always tight, but so wet. So _ready_ for him. He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples with his fingers. Her eyes were half closed, her face flushed with pleasure. Together, tenderly, they sheathed his cock deep in her core.

She leaned down and kissed him, then whispered in his ear, "You feel so good. You fill me so full it's like you'll split me in two, but at the same time you make me feel whole."

Blackwall's heart swelled with emotion. "My lady, I-"

Before he could blurt his feelings, she lifted her hips and drove him into her hot core. She braced herself, hands on his chest, and rhythmically impaled herself on his cock. She rode him chanting filthy, sexy words with each penetration, in a low, husky voice, for his ears alone. 

Blackwall slipped one hand between them to stroke her hard bundle of nerves, then leaned back, closed his eyes and willed himself not to climax before she did. Then the rocking of her hips became erratic, and he took over her rhythm with firm deep thrusts.

All at once she came apart, her inner walls clenched around him, until she collapsed on his chest. Three more thrusts and he joined her, filling her with his seed.

She remained there, resting on his chest, heart beating against his, breath slowing. Holding him inside her until his spent cock softened and slipped out. She lifted her head and kissed him, eyes half closed. "So sleepy."

He brushed sweat-damp hair from her face, then eased out of the bed. He found a fresh cloth by the wash basin, cleaned her, and settled her under the blankets. 

She roused and grabbed his arm. "Will you stay? I want you to be here with me in the morning."

Blackwall climbed into the bed with her. "As you wish, my lady."

Half asleep, she murmured, "... report earlier... temple ruins... investigate tomorrow..."

When her breathing was soft and even, and he was sure she slept, he kissed her forehead and murmured, "My lady, my love."


End file.
